The Strength in my Darkness
by FantasyEscape11019
Summary: I am a queen. I wasn’t born with a tiara on my head or a silver spoon in my mouth. I fought my way to the throne leaving a trail of broken hearts and blood in my wake. And yet, in my darkness, I find my strength. OC/J. Kirk Medieval AU
1. I Don’t Believe in Luck

I sit on the throne sideways with my legs hanging over the side in a "most undignified manner" as my royal advisor would say. I note his disapproving look out of the corner of my eye. After 6 months of being in power the effect of my reforms was finally starting to kick in. Even though Bryce was the King's right hand man before I took over, I chose to keep him on staff. Despite the initial friction between us, over the last few months he had developed respect and a certain fondness for me which I could currently feel radiating off of him in spades as he reads off what could be chalked up as a list of my accomplishments.

I absent-mindedly stroke the pointed tip of one of my ears as he reads off how much the economy if flourishing. Underneath his respect and pride however I could sense a slight uneasiness.

"Out with it," I interrupt him.

"Out with what?"

"There's something you want to say, say it."

"Why don't you just read my mind and find out," he replies sassily. A display of my favorite thing about him. He's one of the few people in my life that's not afraid of me.

"You know I prefer not to, now tell me."

"It's just that they say it's bad luck for a woman to wear all black except when in mourning." I look down at my short black leather outfit. Stylish and functional in my opinion but highly inappropriate for a queen by traditional standards. I however wasn't one to care about what I considered to be outdated expectations.

"Luck? You want to talk to me about bad luck?" I sit up straight and look him in the eye. "If I believed in such things then bad luck would be growing up in the slums of Emraldia, abandoned by my father and scrounging for food while he and his wife are living large up in the castle. These fools that ramble on about luck and superstitions are the same ones that think of me as some sort of witch. The queen of dark magic they call me. Do you think that's what I am? Have I put some sort of spell on you?"

He sighs. "No."

"Exactly. I spent years training my mental powers and developing my fighting skills. There's no such thing as luck, just like I'm no witch. Life is what you make of it and therefore I will wear whatever I want."

He smirks. "Understood."

"Good. Now go line up my new contenders. I still have yet to find a suitable consort." As he nods and leaves to go do so I think back on one of my earliest memories of my mother. One that started my journey to the throne.

**Please review, I'm looking for feedback**


	2. What Am I?

Chapter 2 (15 years ago)

I squirm impatiently as my mother braids my hair. "Mom?"

"Yes mouse?" Her nickname for me.

"What am I?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have ears like a fairy, but no wings. My skin is the color of caramel. I look like a human and yet I can feel...what people are thinking. It's like I am everything and yet I am nothing."

She turns me around to face her. "Why do you think I gave you a name that no one else has?"

I shrug "I don't know," I mumble.

"It's because there's no one else like you. You're different from everybody else and that makes you special."

I look up at her with pleading eyes. "Who is my father?" I had asked before but she would always change the subject or divert my attention elsewhere. "Please."

She sighs and sits down, putting me in her lap. "Your father...is the King."

"King Claudius?" I look at her in bewilderment. "My father can't be King Claudius. If my father is the King then you should be the queen! And why do we live in Blackrain and not the castle?! And I'm supposed to be a princess!"

"I know I know," she hugs me. "It's not fair. But sometimes things are complicated. It'll get better."

"When?"

"One day."

**Please review if you're reading, looking for feedback :)**


	3. Mine Eyes Doth Taketh Interest in Thee

I enter the courtyard of the palace and begin to survey the row of young men lined up before me.

Bryce looks at me as if seeking a sign of approval. "Promising. You did well."

"I thank thee." He nods and follows me down the line to make note of who I accept and reject.

I had been doing this for almost 5 months now. While my two best friends, Mikayla and Barry were excellent company, I still found myself lonely at times. I needed someone I could build a mental link with, an emotional connection. In short, I needed a lover that could handle me. The challenge had been harder than I had anticipated however. So far any man that I had kept lasted no more than a few days before the link overloaded his mind and killed him or simply drove him to the point of insanity. Disturbing to the servants, but necessary casualties from my standpoint. Even more important than their mental constitution was that so far no one had been able to fill the emotional void left by...

"Your highness?" Bryce snaps me out of my musing and I look up to see everyone's attention on me.

"Let's begin." I start at the end of the line and work my way down. "Too tall, too thin, wrong hair, too short, not thin enough..." as I list physical reasons for each of their rejections out loud, internally I'm listing the real reasons for their unfitness. "Fear, fear, fear and shallowness, fear, fear and laziness," I roll my eyes after that one then I pause. I sense something I hadn't felt from any of the previous candidates, or rather a lack of it. He's not afraid of me. I stare at him as I double check to make sure it's not buried under any other emotions. I rake through his mind and thoughts…he's not afraid of me. I glance at the roster to see who I'm dealing with. James Brenton. Son of the Duke of Costwolds.

He endures my hard gaze until I speak. Choosing to address him in High English I offer a complement. "Mine eyes doth taketh interest in thee."

"Tis an honor to meet thee, my queen." He bows slightly as a sign of respect. I slowly circle him making my inspection. About 6 feet tall, medium brown hair, light stubble, well-groomed, and those eyes. He had the most striking blue eyes I had ever seen. Oh yes. I wanted this. Searching through his emotions one more time I sensed a dislike of me which I feel from most of the candidates I bring into the courtyard. It didn't bother me.

"I choose you. The rest of you can go home." As the other men begin to file out I suddenly feel a spike of concentrated malice. I quickly isolate the source, one of the young men I had not reached in the line up before I made my choice. Short but good-looking, just from a quick survey of his mind I could tell he was also overconfident, haughty, presumptuous, and worst of all demeaning to women. The thoughts he was currently thinking about me were murderous at best. Also nothing new but this one, this one was different; too much for me to let go.

"Not him," I call out.

"Which one?" The guard asks.

"That one," I point him out. "The short one that feels entitled to the world but has done nothing to earn it."

The guard drags him over by the collar and drops him at my feet. Standing up immediately I can sense his hatred for me multiply tenfold. "Thou can calleth me entitled because I am. I am nobility while thou art a wench from the streets with nay right to sitteth on yond throne."

"Take this bobolyne out and behead him. And make sure you do it outside of the walls. I do not want his worthless blood staining my property."

The guards begin to drag him away and to my surprise James speaks up. "Wait!" He yells out.

"Thou hast an objection?"

"I cry your mercy. 'Tis my brother and I shan't let him be murdered over a single outburst."

"''Twas an outburst against the queen. He ought to learneth to control his speech. Takest him away." The guards once again begin to drag the man away but this time his brother runs over and attempts to fight them off. Successful in overtaking two, he's defeated by the third and forth but I appreciated seeing the effort. He's well trained I thought to myself. Deciding to spare the insolent man for his brothers sake I tell the guards to release him.

"Remove his clothing before you release him. Perchance walking home in his undergarments shall teach him a measure of humility." After he is stripped and sent home I return my attention to his brother.

"James, you shall be escorted to your chambers. You may ask the servants for whatever you require. Clean yourself up and I shall see you anon for supper."

Bryce follows behind me at a brisk pace quickly scribbling notes on his roster. I sigh and head to my chambers seeking time to rest. James is the first suitor of royal descent I had chosen to test out. This should prove to be an interesting meal.

bobolyne: fool

Anon: later on


End file.
